Fallen
by BetterDaysAhead
Summary: When you're not only accused of a crime in your real life, but you're also considered guilty by divine forces, fading into less than a memory should be a relief. There should be nothing but relief for Thrushfur, but as his end nears someone higher up decides they have other plans. How will Thrushfur survive with dated information, and an enemy among the stars?


**A/N: I've had this idea for a very long time. I just finally got around to posting it. I hope you enjoy Fallen, just as much as I have fun typing it up!**

I am Thrushfur. Elder of the dark forest, older than the oldest cat you can think of. Living off the memories that elders of Statclan heard when they kittens. Told by their grandparents. Needless to say, I am barely visible. Tigerstar deemed me useless for the quest, and even Brokenstar wouldn't include me because of my crime.

Well, you don't think I ended up in the place by being a perfect warrior, did you?

It's nice right now, with barely anyone here. You know, less crowded, and much less yowling at whatever hour the mortals used to come here. Now I can't tell the difference between night a day, but it's all fine with me. I live here in the dark as happily as possible, with my best friend Centipede. I call him Cent.

"Thrushfur, have you checked up on the remnants yet?" I can hear him call, and I reach through the sluggish fog of my mind back to the present.

"Oh, yeah, they won't be causing any more trouble for you!" I happily purr. It was all to easy to attack the new comers here. Still couldn't believe they lost a war. So easy to sneak up from behind, sink my claws into their scruffs if they refused to listen. My purring intensified and I dared to look please in front of my best friend. He snarls in response.

"Quit that. Now go away." the angry black tom spat, making a swipe at my nose I didn't bother to dodge. The dark slowly oozed out, just a little more essence of my being.

He really does care. He just has an odd way of showing it...

Here in the Dark Forest you stop caring about scratches. I may seem sadistic, and at times I can be, but that's how everyone here is. So it's okay to like hurting others...

Maybe I've just grown senile. My self, when I was alive, would never have stood for what I've done. Killing cats soon after they enter. When I start to feel terrible because of the mortal voice whispering in the back of my head, I ignore it can claim these cats deserved it.

I killed a young tom today. He has black fur and beady yellow eyes. The lithe form and wiry pelt of a Windclan cat. I can't stand beings who look like that...the hate filling their eyes until it consumes them. I guess I look like that too. Maybe I should have just...

Suddenly there's a flash in the sky. A flash? I flick my tail and turn to Cent as he pointedly clears his throat. "Go check that out? It might be a new warrior to the Dark Forest, and I could use some fresh meat."

I nod, leaping off into the forest. My old bones still ache despite my young appearance, and my lack of grooming has left my pelt scruffy and the understatement being unkempt.

The journey will not be hard, with a blessing from...

Never mind. Old habits...die hard. Fade hard, in my case. I've been working on stopping that but...

When I was young in the dark forest I would put all of my trust that they would release me from here, back to my dearest Shadowclan. I loved it with all of my heart...I was a loyal warrior! I swear!

There was a murky tail of mist behind me as I oozed darkness out of my paws. The only way I could kick in my healing factor was to sleep. It allowed me to seal wounds less painful than when awake. Your healing factor became stronger the more transparent you get. The closer to oblivion.

I promptly fell asleep after finding a small clearing. No one was going to bother me about this. All I worried about was the past coming to haunt me: my memories appearing as dreams.

_The sun is hot on my back as a run through the woods. I leap into the here with a joyous squeak and turn around, skidding as I fall to the ground on all four paws. _

"_Thrushpaw! Slow down! I'm not that fast!" I look over my shoulder to see the most beautiful she cat ever: her fur shining in the light of the sun pushing through the needles of the trees. Then there's me in my youth, shining brown and black tabby coat, bright amber eyes. I snicker at her as she stumbles over the roots to me._

"_Okay! Hurry Patchpaw!" I call back to her, in a playful mindset on such a pretty day after a moon of rain. She dashes over to me and purrs, skidding to a stop so we are on even ground._

"_Okay. I'm here now! Let's finish the race!" she squeals, dashing ahead before I can hear sweet voice finish her words. _

"_No fair!" I call, speeding to my feet and yowling for her to wait for me to catch up. I still let her win. But only by a little. We fall in a giggling heap at the pine tree, and with the feeling of intense happiness cheering me on, I lick her cheek. The stares at me for a moment in shock. _

"_Did you just...?" _

"_Yeah.. I think I did." I smiled, getting to my feet. "Race you back to camp!" I yowl, running ahead, laughter pealing from me, carried back to her by the wind._

_Patchpaw just stands and watches as a run away, a smiling creeping across her face. My crush began giggling before running after me._

Once again the past has haunted me, as reality sinks back in and I am a translucent climinal of the highest offense. This is _just wonderful_.

I shake my head. It does no good to remember: it only brings back pain. One of the many punishments that I do not deserve. My aching paws are finally healed, though still sore and aching, so I continue along my way though with a slight gimp to my unsteady gallop.

I reach the crater after time. I have no longer got a sense of it. It just passes. But when I reach it I do not expect it to be so small...

Hesitantly I walk into the middle of the crater and carefully peek over the edge. I didn't know what to see. A dead Starclan warrior, maybe? I do not know if they are what falls in the corporeal earth, but it seems the most logical. And slightly metaphorical, in a sense.

A kitten. I am not bothered that there is not a warrior there, as much as I am bothered by the fact that there was a kitten in Starclan. Who would have the heart to kill a kit?

"Hello there." I calmly say, pausing a second. "What's your name little one?" I inquire, nudging the small creature, hoping, no, begging that a response will leave their mouth. I do not like to see dead kittens. It also brings up bad memories. Don't remember.

The kitten's yes slowly blink awake, most likely adjusting to the new found dark. They turn to me, traveling up from my nose, going to my eyes, and they gazing at my scars. The small green eyes squint, though I am not sure if it is confusion of frustration.

The kitten squeaks a bit, most likely shaken from her fall. "I-I- I don't know..." she mewls, looking as lost and confused as I felt. I can not admit this, of course.

"I'll make you a name then. I'll name you Fall." is smile, though inside I am writhing. Fallkit. Why did I name this kitten Fall? The falling of the leaves, the trees and wind and soon snow showing no mercy to the wilting leaves, merely forcing them to be trampled upon by greater forces.

The she-kit, now Fall, nods, and begins to drift off to sleep. "I can't remember..." she mutters, the last thing I hear before she drifts into a sleep that will give her a punishment that she doesn't deserve: a lifetime she will never achieve.

Stooping down, I gently pick her scruff up into my own jaws, careful not to pinch. I would be the one to raise Fall, and I would not let the others know. For all Cent knew I had faded in the one day I was away. But what would happen to the kitten...now that I myself was almost faded? She would have to live alone here in this dark place.

My faded paws reach the ground. My muscles ripple under the my sleek pelt, for though I am old I kept my young figure in this place of frozen time.

Wait...sleek pelt? Muscles?

What did this kitten do?

I look down at my own paws, not fully visible, the ground obscured by their well kept golden fur.

This kitten was invaluable. Fall would never again leave my sight, for the rest of her days. I cannot let the others have her. They might kill her. Ah, but now I was corporeal! I could fight them well! No more intimidation. I was going to train as if I would never see tomorrow.

I would train to no end, so that Fall might never see one.

_Elsewhere..._

Cent snarled at the absence of Thrushfur. The worm was most likely faded to an extent where he would be indistinguishable from the rest of the forest and darkness surrounding him anyway. But now he was without a guard, and without an iron fist (albeit a facade of an iron fist). The warrior was too senile to realize manipulation when it stared him in the face.

Once again overcome with frustration, Cent decided to strike out on his own. If he couldn't count on Thrushfur to do his work, the boss will merely have to do it on his own.

But if Thrushfur had run away, Cent would never allow him to have the pleasure of fading without pain.


End file.
